Different from a Year Ago
Tang Heogun had handed over the Iron Poison Plaque, the very emblem of the clan head's authority. Carrying this token into the Sichuan Tang Clan entitled its bearer to issue a single command in the patriarch's name.
There was, however, a strict limitation: it held no sway over the clan's martial forces. To mobilize the armed might of the Tang Clan, one required not the Iron Poison Plaque, but the Myriad Poison Plaque—an artifact that served as the living proxy of the clan head himself.
Tang Heogun was far from a fool; he would never have surrendered such a thing. Yet for the purpose of inspecting the sacred relic, the Iron Poison Plaque ought to suffice without much trouble.
Taking the plaque and traveling ahead was infinitely better than journeying in the company of that old fox. Considering how easily plans could go awry with him hovering about, riding ahead on her own was the obvious choice. With the plaque in hand, she held the legitimate authority of a command issued by the clan head himself, leaving them no ground to refuse.
When Jin Yeong finally arrived, breathless and staggering, Ryeong gave him no time to catch his breath before pivoting sharply toward Sichuan.
“C-Can't we rest just a little before leaving? I just sprinted at full speed with my lightness skill...”
“Take your time catching up, then. But if you arrive late, things might get interesting, you know?”
“Just tell me not to rest at all... Hoo.”
Jin Yeong could not suppress his sigh even if he tried. Her words were a thinly veiled threat that if he failed to keep pace, she would run him into the ground until he dropped dead.
Yet he could not utter another word of protest. Ryeong had already unleashed her lightness skill, her silhouette blurring into the distance toward Sichuan.
“When carriages are such a wonderful mode of transportation...”
To make matters worse, Jin Yeong was burdened with a mountain of luggage. Knowing he would not return to Mount Jongnam for quite some time, he had packed every conceivable necessity, swelling his baggage to absurd proportions. The trouble was that hauling such dead weight made keeping up with Ryeong an utter impossibility.
Swallowing his pride, Jin Yeong was forced to plead with his martial uncles.
“Martial Uncle... could you perhaps take this baggage back to Mount Jongnam for me?”
“You truly have a hard lot in life. Leave the luggage to us; hurry and catch up to her.”
“Thank you, Martial Uncle! Take care!”
Stripping down to only his travel coin, Jin Yeong unleashed his lightness skill in a desperate bid to pursue Ryeong. Free of his heavy pack, his heart felt a measure lighter, allowing him to accelerate—though in truth, shedding the sheer physical weight was what really made the difference.
“Gasp... Pant... Please, could we not just travel together?!”
“Exhausted already?”
“What kind of human wouldn't be exhausted?! I haven't reached the Transcendent Realm!”
Jin Yeong vented his outrage between ragged wheezes. For five continuous double-hours, they had done nothing but run at top speed.
Ryeong had restrained her pace to some degree, but even her tempered gait was blisteringly fast for a martial artist at Jin Yeong's level. In truth, reaching the Peak Realm at his age was already an extraordinary accomplishment; he had advanced a full decade faster than his peers. It was simply that Ryeong was an anomaly who defied all common sense.
“Why make such a fuss? I wasn't even running that fast.”
“...I have a great deal I wish to say, but I shall hold my tongue.”
The only saving grace was that Ryeong had finally come to a stop. Jin Yeong caught his breath, allowing the feverish heat to bleed out of his muscles. Though they were stranded halfway up a desolate mountain, he was fully prepared to sleep under the open sky if it meant not taking another step.
Unfortunately, Ryeong had other thoughts.
“I wonder if there are any Green Forest bandits around here.”
“Young Lady. Why on earth are you looking for thugs who would charge at us with drawn blades the moment they lay eyes on our Taoist robes?”
“Ah, so the clothes are the problem. Then how about we run in our undergarments?”
“Young Lady! Why haven't you changed one bit from a year ago?! Is it proper conduct to harass a man like this?”
“Have you been possessed by a lust demon? How is that harassment? Did you undergo bone cleansing or brain secession? Did your brain resign and withdraw from your skull?”
“...Immeasurable Heavenly Lord.”
Bombarded by Ryeong’s rapid-fire retorts, Jin Yeong could only chant a Taoist prayer. He was reminded once again: he could never best Ryeong in a contest of words. Not once had he ever managed to slip past her razor-sharp tongue.
Having clawed her way through a ruthless, blood-soaked life, Ryeong operated on a verbal wavelength entirely alien to Jin Yeong, who had spent his youth sheltered among refined Taoist priests. It was only natural that her tongue was caustic and crude.
“We rest for one double-hour, then set out again. I won't tolerate sleeping outdoors, got it?”
“Understood.”
Jin Yeong surrendered without further protest. He understood instinctively that pushing the matter would only invite disaster upon himself.
And so, two hours later, the pair resumed their sprint toward the Tang Clan. Fortunately, they managed to cross the border into Sichuan Province before the stroke of midnight.
Their itinerary was simple: grab a short night of deep rest, then immediately resume sprinting toward the Tang Clan. The reason Ryeong pushed so relentlessly to arrive even a single day earlier was Tang Heogun. One could never predict when that old schemer might return to his estate. To inspect the sacred relic using the Iron Poison Plaque, they had to act before his shadow fell across the gates.
For Jin Yeong, the forced march was so grueling that death began to seem like a merciful alternative.
“Halt. Who goes there?”
“Guests from the Jongnam Sect. We have come to present the Iron Poison Plaque granted by your Clan Head.”
“Ah! Please, enter at once! But... is the person behind you part of your party?”
Having finally arrived at the Tang Clan estate, Ryeong presented the plaque. The sentry on duty was stunned by the token in her hand, yet his gaze drifted dubiously toward Jin Yeong, who lay sprawled in the dirt, gasping frantically for air.
He looked no better than a wretched beggar. While Ryeong had paced herself with ease, Jin Yeong had sprinted with suicidal abandon, completely neglecting his own appearance. The two looked so mismatched that they could hardly be taken for companions; had Jin Yeong not worn the same Taoist robes as Ryeong, the guard would never have believed they were traveling together.
“Yes, he's with me. He's thoroughly exhausted, so I will meet with the Acting Clan Head alone. Please prepare a room where he can rest.”
“Understood.”
The guard pulled open the heavy gates of the Tang Clan, and Ryeong crossed the threshold with a faint smile.
The Sichuan Tang Clan—one of the Five Great Clans of the Orthodox path, renowned masters of lethal poisons and hidden weapons. Befitting their fearsome standing, the pavilions and towers stood tall, looming with oppressive majesty. The estate's layout was a labyrinthine puzzle; any intruder foolish enough to slip inside would meet a gruesome end. In this regard, the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans were fundamentally different.
While many of the Nine Great Sects maintained relatively open compounds, the Five Great Clans prioritized seclusion and impenetrable defense over welcome. Their core philosophies diverged entirely.
Mount Hua was perhaps an exception, though only because ascending its sheer cliffs was an ordeal in itself, leaving few mortal tracks behind. The Shaolin Temple was the most accessible of all, yet it housed an ocean of peerless masters to compensate for its open gates.
“Word has been sent to the Acting Clan Head. Please wait in the inner courtyard.”
Ryeong was guided into the inner courtyard, the most heavily fortified sanctum within the Tang Clan. Granting an outsider entry into this inner circle on the merit of an Iron Poison Plaque alone spoke volumes of the patriarch's absolute authority.
At that moment—
“Lady... Ryeong?”
“Hmm?”
A man caught sight of her and approached. His face was familiar, though she could not immediately place where they had met. Sensing her hesitation, he introduced himself.
“I am Tang Jin, Young Lady. Have you forgotten me already?”
“Ah, the Poison Dragon who sparred at Mount Jongnam? It has been quite some time.”
“Indeed it has. Surely the one who brought the Clan Head's Iron Poison Plaque isn't...”
“It's me.”
“Good grief.”
Tang Jin winced, his face twisting into a grimace of dismay. He could not fathom what on earth the Clan Head had been thinking when he entrusted the Iron Poison Plaque to her hands.
“What do you intend to request of the Acting Clan Head? Even with the Iron Poison Plaque, there are strict limits to what may be demanded.”
“I just want to inspect the sacred relic. If you tell me even that is forbidden, we might have a problem.”
“...”
Tang Jin fell silent.
At his stillness, Ryeong’s eyes narrowed into a thin arc. Anyone could read his hesitation; it was glaringly obvious that he considered her request impossible.
“What's with that look? Don't tell me someone stole the relic?”
“No, it is not that. However, an agreement exists with the Jongnam Sect that cannot be breached. To inspect the sacred relic, one must be an elder of Jongnam or a member of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven.”
“So all I have to do is perform the Thirty-Six Swords Technique, right?”
“What do you mean by—?”
Whoosh!
Ryeong formed a sword-finger and unleashed the Thirty-Six Swords Technique Under Heaven. Watching her fluid, razor-sharp movements unfold before his very eyes, Tang Jin froze in sheer horror.
The supreme martial art reserved exclusively for the vanguard of the Jongnam Sect, the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven—she was executing it flawlessly with nothing more than her bare fingertips.
How is this even possible?!
He could sense no aura radiating from her. Tang Jin was an expert who had reached the Peak Realm; for someone of his caliber to detect not a single trace of martial presence could only mean one of two things.
The Transcendent Realm?! That's impossible!
Either she possessed less skill than a second-rate hack, or she had shattered the threshold and stepped into the Transcendent Realm.
Recalling their duel a year ago, she was certainly no second-rate martial artist. She had wielded the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique with breathtaking mastery back then; the possibility of her cultivation regressing was virtually zero.
Which meant Ryeong had attained the Transcendent Realm.
Tang Jin's pupils trembled violently. Only now did the true weight of the words Tang Heogun had spoken a year ago dawn on him.
Was this what Father meant by a monster? If someone like her steps into the Jianghu... the entire martial world will be turned upside down!
He swallowed dryly against a parched throat. Having confirmed her status as a master of the Transcendent Realm, and having witnessed her flawless display of the Thirty-Six Swords Under Heaven, he knew that if she chose to claim she was one of those thirty-six swords, they would possess no justification whatsoever to bar her from the relic.
Did Father send her here knowing this would happen?
With mastery over the Thirty-Six Swords and the Iron Poison Plaque in hand, she held every qualification required to inspect the sacred relic. Tang Heogun was far too shrewd not to realize that. Knowing the current state of Jongnam's sacred relic, why on earth had he made such a choice?
Tang Jin's mind spun furiously, marshaling every shred of memory and experience to decipher the Clan Head's intentions. Yet no clear answer presented itself.
“Shouldn't this be enough to let me see it? If you still say no, I might get a little angry, you know?”
“...Please wait for now. The Acting Clan Head will arrive shortly.”
Having concluded her demonstration, Ryeong beamed innocently at Tang Jin. Faced with a monster beyond his comprehension, there was nothing Tang Jin could do.